Pazun Thoke, Dawei Prawn Salad

Dawei sits on a slow, silty estuary, and prawns have been part of its economy for as long as anyone has bothered to write the town down — the colonial gazetteers that catalogued Tanintharyi's trade counted prawn fisheries and drying yards among its steadiest earners. What the ledgers never recorded is what the fishing families did with the freshest of the catch, which is more or less this: a quick poach, a pile of sour green mango, and a hand-tossed salad eaten the same day the boats came in.

Thoke — the great Burmese family of hand-mixed salads — usually arrives loaded with texture from a dozen jars. The southern prawn version is notable for its restraint. Where a Yangon table might thicken the dressing with toasted chickpea flour, the Dawei instinct is to keep things bright and let the prawns carry the bowl: turmeric-chili oil for warmth, lime and green mango for two kinds of sour, shallots and peanuts for bite. It reads almost Thai, which is no accident of geography — Tanintharyi has traded tastes across that border for centuries.

Two moments decide the dish. The prawns must be poached shy of done, until they curl into loose commas rather than tight rings. And the mixing must be done with your hand — the gentle squeeze bruises the mango so its juice finds the prawns, which is the whole point of the exercise. Everything else is assembly, and none of it should wait around.